I’ve walked a 2 mile trail almost daily since mid-June.
In the summer, the woods were carpeted with leafy ferns that resembled a faceted emerald reflecting the sunlight.
In the fall, it was alive with colors of copper, gold, and ruby against a sparkling river.
And now, the frost has shriveled the undergrowth and the tree branches are gray and bare.
But I still brought my camera. Because there is beauty even in barrenness, if you will see it.
Through the leafless trees, I saw my first bald eagle flying above the river.
I discovered tiny oak tree saplings under the frost bitten, shriveled ferns.
And the faded, fallen leaves still laid out a carpet for hikers like me.
But most of all, I saw hope. This path through the woods will lie dormant with bitter winds and a blanket of snow. But it will not die. It will just be sleeping.
Because in the spring, it will come to life with wildflowers and frogs and fresh, new leaves. How exciting to have this anticipation of what will be coming!
Your life may feel dead. It’s not. If nature has cycles, don’t we?
What is hope? Seeing beyond today.
There is anticipation for a new day with new experiences which will unfold as gently and slowly as a flower bud.
Can you see it? It’s a choice you have to make.